Word Association
by Mephisto Waltz
Summary: 1 and 3. Heero and Trowa try to de-construct each other with words. post canon.


**Title:**_ Word Association****_

**Challenge**: GW500. #5. "Digging"****

**Author: **Mephisto Waltz

**Pairing: **1x/+3

**Word Count: **650

**Summary**: Heero and Trowa try to deconstruct each other with words.

**Warnings/Rating: **Pg-13 for awkward kiss.

            "Datura"

            "Paradox. . .Sliver."

            "Wood. . .Field."

            "Naked. . .Canopy."

            "Shelter. . .Home."

            "Catherine. . .Home."

            I drew a complete blank at the repeated question.  After a moment of stilted silence I gave my answer:

            "The colonies." I believe I sighed and the response simply rode out on the wave of my exhalation .  Sometimes I wondered if I played the game for an excuse to submit to him entirely, for-as of late- he'd been noticeably superior in terms of reaction time. It made me feel sluggish and almost incompetent the way I seemed to stall our machine-gun rhythm.  It was due to my new habit of over-processing every bit of information I received, which reflected my new lifestyle. In contrast, his lifestyle had changed only in content, not in mindset.

            For the last two years we'd met every second Sunday and, only on rare occasions were full sentences used. Our conversations were too concentrated for filler.

            "Living." Since it was my turn, I tossed out another word.

            "Dying." He replied with a shrug, as though the question were too easy. And it was for people like us. "Ice cream…"

            "Puppy." How hard it is to put the past behind you. . . "God."

            "Betrayal. . .Fear. . ."

            "Value. . .Space. . ."

            "Cold. . ." In an unusual moment of human weakness, he shivered and hugged himself with one arm. Had I been more brave, I would've wrapped my arm around him, but instead I offered my coat, which he politely declined. "Gentle."

            "Relena." Only recently was I able to forgo justifying that particular answer in my mind. I'd come to accept Relena as an inextricable part of me and while the process had been difficult, the result had been life-altering, for I'd realized that she was the only part of myself I could tolerate. "Dream"

            "Floating." When he responded, his breath hitched slightly. Grabbing onto the rusted railing, he gazed out  across the foggy landscape, his eyes wide and unguarded. From this old tourist look-out tower, we could see the vastness of the city and even the tarmac where we'd first met. He continued by murmuring a faint "Music."

            "Quatre." I'd always envied Quatre for a myriad of reasons, though most were more superficial or cruel than I'd ever acknowledge. . .the most cruel of which being the flash of heartache on my comrade's face at the mention. "Childhood," I continued.

            "Beer. . .refuse. . ."

            "Odin. . .sunshine. . ."

            "Obscurity. . .sacrifice. . ."

            "Trowa."

            He finally turned to me, his wide eyes belying his blasé façade. With one swift motion I grabbed him at the hip and pulled him to me, close enough for his chin to smack my cheek. My one hand rested on his hipbone while the other wrapped around his bony wrist. 

            "Oxygen."

            "Choking. . .he. . ."

            "Touch." I cut him off and gripped his wrist tighter.

            "Tremble."

            "Lust."

            "Fear."

            "Decay."

            "Beauty."

            "Submission."

            "No." He whispered, evading my eyes.

            "Heero." I murmured my own name, trying to inflect my tone with tenderness. Sighing, he wrapped his arms around me and whispered in my ear.

            "What are you doing?" there was genuine concern in his voice which threw me off balance.

            "I. .. digging."

            "Well. . .stop it."

            I put my mouth on his in what was my inexperienced attempt at passion. He didn't even close his eyes, choosing to stare at me with pity and contempt.

            While I was reluctant to pull away, I knew that I'd put him in a disagreeable mood. Still tasting the cotton candy that always seemed to linger on his breath, I left him there on the mountain. And though the meeting ended badly, I looked forward to future Sundays in which I could delve deeper into Trowa's psyche, all the while submitting my own shell to his masterful chiselling.


End file.
